


words too small for any hope or promise

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Last Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 13:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Chase wakes up to House at his doorstep.





	words too small for any hope or promise

**Author's Note:**

> title from richard siken's "the torn-up road" from his book 'crush'.
> 
> for genpromptbingo with the square 'sadness', and 15kisses with the prompt 'carry'.
> 
> have i watched season 8 yet? no. will that stop me? also no.

Chase wakes up to someone banging on his door. He grumbles and straightens up, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and trying to get the sleep off him. It doesn't work, but the knocking only gets more insistent, so he curses under his breath and gets out of bed. After a minute, he's by the door, looking through the peephole—  _ House? _   
  
He rubs his eyes again and opens the door. House walks in and closes the door behind himself in one quick motion. His clothes are frazzled and badly ironed, and he's a mess.   
  
"What happened?" Chase asks.   
  
"Uh..." He rubs his face. "I wanted to revisit our...  _ thing  _ two years ago."   
  
He freezes on the spot and looks up at him, offended at the mere notion. He's long since told him he doesn't want to revisit that, mostly because of his pride than because he regrets it. His life was a mess back then, with his recent divorce and what-have-you. He'd fallen into House's arms, in secret, and the rest was history. It was just a fling that ended as soon as it started, but its official finishing point was when Cuddy and House started dating.   
  
He still doesn't like to think about that mess.   
  
"What about it?" he asks, tilting his head.   
  
House sighs. "I want to kiss you."   
  
The question confuses him greatly, as they hadn't had any contact in the last two years. Any contact of that sort, anyway.   
  
"Why?"   
  
He rubs his forehead. He looks exhausted, and a part of him wants to humor him. He always wants to humor House. "Reasons."   
  
Chase sighs and decides to humor him— a choice he makes most of the time he has the chance to. He pulls him closer and kisses him, eager but awkward, clinging onto House as they kiss. It's hungry and it's like he's freshly divorced all over again; like House hasn't fucked up irredeemably yet.   
  
"Chase," House breathes. And he's so tired, by the look of him; something terrible has happened or is about to happen, by the look of him. Thorns pick at his heart without mercy and without stop. "After everything…” He hesitates, his face twisting. “Carry on. Just move on. You can do that, can't you?"   
  
Chase blinks and he wants to deadpan about House's cryptic nature, but he's never seen House quite so serious before. There's not a single hint of amusement in his glacier eyes.   
  
"House," he starts, "What's going on? What’s happening?"   
  
He smiles sadly. His glacier eyes don't sparkle with amusement. His glacier eyes are cold and dark and empty. "You'll know. Carry on."   
  
House kisses him quick and limps away Chase's place, leaving him speechless and confused. He watches as House drives into the night, as House's car soon becomes impossible to distinguish from the night sky, the darkness wrapping him up and choking him.   
  
He stays at his own doorstep, thinking, more than he would like to admit.   
  
(Four days later, he wakes up to Foreman calling him and telling him House passed away in a fire.)


End file.
